


Cloak of the Shadows

by TheUltimateUndesirable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Bottom Harry Potter, Bottom Ron Weasley, Case Fic, Comfort Sex, Comfort/Angst, Dark Draco Malfoy, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Luna Lovegood, Dark Magic, Dark Ron Weasley, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fred Weasley Dies, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Sex, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Is it really dark though?, Justice, Killing, M/M, Murder, Mystery, Not Epilogue Compliant, Ollivanders Wand Shop (Harry Potter), POV Harry Potter, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Revenge, Rimming, Smut, So Wrong It's Right, Switch Harry Potter, Top Harry Potter, Top Ron Weasley, Torture, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter), Vigilantism, Wand Maker Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26461255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/pseuds/TheUltimateUndesirable
Summary: While the wizarding world is working it's way to recovery Harry and Ron discover how to help in more ways than one. After lots of frustration, anger, and revelations on how everyone else is going about it they decide to take matters into their own hands. Justice is not always served, some wrongs can't be righted, and not everyone deserves what they get. Maybe they all finally will though.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 25





	1. "Family"

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to explore this side of Harry! Honestly I'm really excited about this as I believe it a real possibility based on the trauma of mental/emotional abuse, war, and the actual justice system.
> 
> Please read the tags so you know what you are getting into. Which is a lot of murder, torture, and flat out angst with plenty of smut thrown into the mix. There is an implied/reference rape tag but it is NOT described and NOT at all involved with Ron or Harry.
> 
> I blame the sparking of such idea and further encourage at more WIPs by PitfallsofPlottingPenguins. Love/hate you :D

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/189190041@N05/50341472592/in/dateposted-public/)

The Dursleys liked to consider themselves completely normal people. While it was their proudest feature, it was also their worst. Still it was what a lot of people strived for. Being normal in a world that was anything but normal. Those that claimed to be such a thing didn’t know what living was in his opinion, and in this case they didn’t deserve it anyways. 

“No. No. Please you wouldn't do this!” the woman said in a wavering voice. She wasn’t shaking, but her back was against the wall. Hands holding onto it like it might help her get further away from him. 

“Of course he would Petunia,” Vernon spat disgustingly up at him from where he held himself on his oversized hands and knees. “It’s in their blood. Who they are. Si….sick freaks. We knew it from the moment we saw him he was one of them! I told….,” the old man stopped to try breathing better. His lungs were clearly tired. “I told you to ship him off!” 

The fear from Vernon’s voice was long gone, despite his previous deep screams of pain. Probably because he realized there was no changing his mind like he had tried at first. It was mildly amusing watching him continue to act like he was on higher moral ground. Like they were in some way superior to him despite he being the one with a powerful wand in his hand. 

Harry couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. “You know...uncle…” he emphasized the word. “No matter where I would have been sent it’s not like I wouldn’t be a wizard. It’s not like I wouldn’t be able to find out who my so-called family was. Although there is a chance I’d be less inclined to be here right now depending on if the orphanage treated me better than you did.” 

Vernon’s fat face, which was pale purple from the cruciatus curse, still managed to tense in a way that wrinkled his nose and gray mustache. “You and your…. kind are less than a disgraceful piece of muck not worth being on the bottom of my boot,” he tried to spat again but it came out tiredly. “You’re lucky with what you got from us boy. Some…” the man stopped to cough up some blood. “...that poor orphanage would have been blown up should your pitiful existence have been allowed ....” 

One of the things Harry had to admit he was grateful for in his life, starting with the Dursleys, was being forced into advanced magic at such an early age. Apparating under the age of eleven, and casting a fully formed patronus in third year. It had proven to be one of the only positives from his abused life so far that he also spent fighting the darkest wizard of all time. No one ever knew what he could or would do when he raised his wand. 

All of that combined allowed him to cast his curse silently. The dark magic caused his uncle to roll over onto the floor like a dog without a single scream. The only sound being the heavy thud as he hit the carpet. Life finally leaving him. 

“Vernon!” Petunia cried out on instinct as her husband was cast dead before her eyes. As she went to move forward though Harry instantly shifted his wand point to her. It caused his aunt to jump back against the wall. “What did you do?” she was starting to cry fearfully.

Harry glanced down to the old ugly man on the floor. The one that had been the most determined to make his entire life a living hell. That refused to accept him from the most innocent basic phase of his life. 

“Him?” Harry asked dully, looking back at the horse faced woman he unfortunately had as an aunt. “He’s dead.” 

Petunia started to cry a little harder, and Harry tilted his head watching her try and grip at the wall. Watching them cower before him like he had once done under their wrath was curious. The only time she had come close to tears was under her husband's cruelty. Mostly out of fear for Dudley he assumed. 

“I'm your aunt. I'm….I'm your mother's sister,” Petunia tried to reason pitifully.

“Your point?” Harry asked emotionlessly, raising his eyebrows. 

“She wouldn’t want this! You can't hurt me!” she pleaded.

Flicking his wand carelessly at her Harry kept his focus steady on the woman as she fell to the floor. High pitched screams filling the air while she withered and thrashed in pain. She was much louder than Vernon had been under the cruciatus, and he was extra thankful for making sure to coat every inch and crack of the miserable house with a silencing charm. Finally after another minute he dropped the curse. 

“I beg to differ,” he said boringly as she gasped repeatedly for air. Not even able to cry since her need for oxygen was greater. “You not only treated me like garbage, but my mother as well. I’ve seen pieces of her childhood. My. Mother. Fuck her being your sister. It only makes you more deserving of what you get. Treating your own little sister, and nephew like they weren’t even worth existing because they were special. Whereas you're….” Harry growled, growing angrier remembering every bad thing they had ever done to anyone that he was aware of, and how it fit perfectly into the death eaters' image of non magical people. 

“You’re the typical disgusting muggle that paints innocent muggles as cruel,” he breathed. “People like you are why we continue to hide. Why some are hated, tortured, and killed much like you are being now.” 

“I loved her….” Petunia whispered from the floor having gathered a bit of air. “You….you know I loved her or….or I wouldn’t have taken you.” 

“You took me out of guilt,” he said calmly, bitterness lacing his words though. “Out of obligation. Perhaps even fear of the letter you received along with me since you knew what I was. Not….out of love.” 

Harry twisted his wand around in his hand and adjusted the grip he held it with. As a child he may not have known what love was, but he did now and their claim at it infuriated him. Claiming to know such a thing. 

He watched his aunt’s lip tremble, but she didn’t argue further. She simply closed her eyes that were leaking tears, acknowledging and accepting the truth. There was a look of defeated shame on her face. It was disgusting. Only under the tip of his wand, and ruthlessness did she even come close to thinking herself in the wrong. Only then did she try to justify herself, and claim the opposite of everything she had said or done. 

Roughly swishing his wand down at her a jet of green light left it, and he watched his mum’s sister’s body stiffen before going completely lax. Finally lifeless. It still didn’t feel like enough. With how rigid his breathing was he was sure he could have cast the killing curse at least five more times at her before finally satisfying himself. He regretted not torturing her longer, but her feeble attempts to justify herself and claims of love had taken him to the edge too quickly. 

“Brilliant mate!” Ron applauded cheerfully from behind him, clapping him on the shoulder and moving up to stand beside him as he lowered his wand. “When will that other piece of shit be here?” he asked. 

Harry cracked his neck still looking at his aunt. Soaking in the moment of justice. “Anytime now,” he said plainly. It always took a few minutes to adjust afterwards. Especially when it was more personal. 

The redhead rounded the room once more full of energy, before flopping onto the sofa frustrated from having to wait. Relaxing finally he started to feel more worry than frustration. He always hated when their plans ran late. Not out of fear, but more out of drama. Checking into the hall one last time at the door Harry gave up his pacing and joined his friend. 

For the next ten minutes they simply waited. Chatting idly about Neville’s upcoming baby with their feet on the table. The news had been a total surprise when they had found out the day before, but then again it had been a surprise for their friend as well. Trust it to Neville to be the first of them all to have a baby by forgetting to cast his own contraceptive charm just in case. At least now that their friend had adjusted to the news they were allowed to laugh and joke about it.

The sound of a distant car door slamming shut caused their heads to snap towards the hallway, and their talking to cease. Harry instantly got up to inspect the noise by looking out the window, and he smiled seeing the car. Nodding for Ron to follow him he rounded the corner. 

He didn’t walk into the small hall far though. Just inside enough to allow the redhead room behind him. Sometimes the shocked look on their faces was priceless.

Then the knock on the door came. However Harry didn’t answer it. Then after a second knock, and no answer the sound of keys could be heard before the door knob started twisting. 

“Mum? Dad? I'm…” the voice said as the door opened. Then his cousin stopped mid step in the frame seeing him leaning on the hallway wall. “Harry? What are you…” 

“Hello Big D,” Harry smiled weakly, while Ron on the other hand laughed behind him. The shocked expression having indeed been worth it. His aunt and uncle had already been home when they popped in so they hadn’t gotten to enjoy that effect this time. Dudley however didn’t disappoint. 

“Who is he?” Dudley asked, shooting confused looks between him and the laughing redhead. 

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder. “Ron? Oh he’s just my best mate. Has been for the last decade now. Not exactly surprised you don’t remember him from the few times at the station. Been my best mate since that first day I left.” 

Dudley looked up the stairs, and craned his neck to look further down the hall seeming worried. “Umm. Does mum and dad know you two are here? Because I…” 

“Do we show him?” Ron asked eagerly, interrupting his cousin. 

Harry pursed his lips in thought. Debating it. Did Dudley deserve witnessing his parent’s lifeless bodies on the ground? His first instinct was an outstanding yes, but a distant voice said it was too far. One of his weaknesses was forgiveness, and second chances. Things some people just didn’t deserve. 

“They are in the sitting room,” Harry answered after a second, but still Dudley looked concerned. He and Ron didn’t wait for a reply though. His friend bounced back into the room to make space for him to pass, and Dudley simply followed them both. 

His cousin gasped before he even had the chance to turn around. “Mum! Dad!” he cried out in a panicked voice, running to their sides. Touching their faces like it might wake them. Harry frowned in approval, actually impressed with Dudley’s speed and continued weight loss. Now he might have actually stood a slight chance at even closely keeping up with him. 

Dudley looked back and forth between his parents, his hand shaking them before staring up at him from the floor. “What...Harry...I…” he spluttered, still clearly processing what had, was, happening. 

“Dead as a death eater mate,” Ron said cheerfully to Dudley’s pained face. Seeing the mournful look already on his cousin Harry didn’t feel the need to drag the situation out. 

“Alright Dud’s let’s make this quick. We have an actual family supper to attend,” he sighed, raising his wand, but Ron growled at him, causing him to roll his eyes. “Okay okay. Almost family supper,” he corrected himself. 

Dudley eyed the tip of his wand with fear. Fear unlike his parents. He swallowed thickly leaning away only slightly as he studied the piece of wood. 

“Uh….what....I thought…..I thought things had changed between us?” Dudley staggered. “I….” 

“You what?” Harry asked unimpressed with the question. “You half assed apologized once when you were leaving with nearly the same threat of death as you have now? Admitting, or should I say acknowledging, that I'm not a waste of space?” 

Harry furrowed his brows in genuine disbelief to his cousins consistent ability to be stupid. How in the name of Merlin could he possibly think one short apology made up for nearly two decades of bullying him. Helping starve him. Nothing could undo the mental and physical abuse he had had to endure. The best he could try and do was cope with it like his mind healer had suggested. Righting the wrong and paying the kindness forward.

“You think that makes up for eleven years of straight up bullying and abuse?” he continued, letting out a deep breath to relax himself. “Then the slightly less bullying done during the summers? The only reason you weren't on the wrong end of my wand back then was because of the for underage magic law. You apologized during a moment of fear for yourself. Not out of respect for me. ” 

Dudley shook his head franticly. “No. No of course it doesn't, but we haven’t even talked since then. I’m sorry I am but…” 

“Shut up!” Ron shouted dangerously before either of them could say another word. “You treated him like a bloody house elf! Hell worse than a blood house elf! At least the worse purebloods give them full kitchen access, are not fed through a piece of bread through a fucking hole in the door, or stuck in one room for months on end literally behind bars….” 

“Ron….” Harry said lowly, trying to rein his friend in when he noticed him starting to shake. Shaking was something the bloke did now instead of throwing something or instantly wanting to hit them. He knew how the topic of his family affected his best friend. It always had, but now after the war with everything they had been through it made the thought of his childhood so much worse for him. 

“I….I can’t...I can't apologize for what they did….” Dudley tried to say clearly even though he was tripping over his own tongue. “I was just a boy. A boy. I did and followed what I knew. What I was encouraged to do. It was wrong but….” 

Harry clenched his jaw tightly at the apology and excuse. The more he talked the more tempting a cruciatus became, but also the more that nagging little voice in the back of his mind claiming to give him a second chance became. “You had a choice Dudley,” he started ignoring it. “You had a choice just as I did. I could have cowered in fear. I could have tried joining my enemy. I did neither because I’m now a coward. I’m not weak like you all wanted me to be. That is now why you're sorry. You fear me. I had hundreds of witches and wizards out for my neck. Your neck by default. We sent you all away because the light cares for people. Even people that don’t fucking deserve it.” 

“Harry stop! You’re not like this,” his cousin tried claiming desperately as if he actually knew anything about him. “I know you aren’t!” 

“Did you know I died Dudley?” Harry asked him rhetorically to prove his point. Something so crucial that only the closest people and family knew. 

“You what?” Dudley looked him up, and down before his eyes nervously darted around the room. Perhaps trying to make sure he wasn’t in a dream. He shook his head either in denial or refusal to believe. “You’re…” 

“Oh it was the rarest feat of all returning,” Harry told him with a reassuring nod, understanding the confusion. Not even witches or wizards believed the task possible. “No magic can reawaken death I’m afraid…” then he paused as his own eyes flickered down to his aunt and uncle's bodies. “...well mostly afraid that is. No,” he said getting back on track. “What happened with me has happened to no one else. Good chance it never will again either, and for that I am grateful. No one deserves it. Yet my own family basically thought that I did.” 

Bending his arm just enough to snap it down and cast the curse Dudley scrambled closer to him with his hands clasped together as if praying. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeated over and over. “Please don’t. Don’t. I have a little girl now. A little girl…” he told him with a voice full of hope. Hope for mercy. 

At that Harry’s face twitched, his wand shaking ever so lightly, but he wasn’t sure if it was rage or hesitation. Which was a lie because he knew which it was. “She deserves better then….” he trailed off quietly. 

“She does,” his cousin agreed quickly. “She does, but we can…” 

“Avada kedavra!” Ron shouted loudly, raising his wand quicker to Dudley than he could blink. Only after his cousin’s upper body toppled over onto the floor did he blink a few times. Then Harry realized his own wand arm had lowered. 

Despite not being the one to cast it, the curse still sent satisfying shivers down his spine. Shivers that caused a rush of adrenaline. They always did. 

“Thanks Ron,” Harry finally said, shrugging the physical feeling off a little. While he didn't necessarily enjoy the coldness the killing curse produced when cast, the strong wave of magic and mental fulfillment of another toxic person going down was a different story. He enjoyed that bit far too much. 

Dudley however was the first time ever since starting their mission only months ago that he had wavered. It caused a feeling of frustration, and disappointment in himself. The hesitation was unmerited when it came down to it. Then Ron nudged him in the shoulder playfully regaining his attention. 

“Don’t worry mate,” the redhead said comfortingly, bringing a hand to his cheek and directing his face to him for reassurance. He wore a soft smile as he placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I’ve got your back.”

**XXXXXXXXX**

“Boy’s you’re late!” Mrs.Weasley chastised them as he and Ron walked through the Burrow door. 

Granted they were late by about twenty five minutes so they didn’t consider it a big deal. The witch on the other hand considered it one since it sparked a little unvoiced anxiety in her. She tried hard to keep everything on time with so many children. Especially now that they were all grown and out of the house except for Ginny. 

Ron groaned at his mum’s tone. “We know mum we know. We just got a little caught up is all.” 

Mrs.Weasley huffed at them disapprovingly. “Well go on then,” she said, shooing them towards the large packed table. “Supper is already on the table. That is if they haven’t already eaten it all, since you're late,” she repeated with emphasis. “... and dessert is almost done.” 

As he was ushered forward Harry scanned the table. The food was indeed dwindling supply. Not that he had expected less. Sunday suppers were always a busy affair at the Burrow now, and the lot of them ate like dragons. 

Since the war Mrs.Weasley practically demanded every single one of them be in attendance. Harry figured it was her own way of coping. Making sure everyone was safe and accounted for.

Even Charlie now attended them since he had chosen to relocate back to England just after the war to be with his family. For the last six months he had been working with Hermione on possible ways to set up a dragon sanctuary in the country. Specifically focusing on Welsh Green’s with their more tame personalities, but also ideas for the Hebridean Black. While there was potential, the Ministry and communities were still recovering, which meant funding was short. They were using this time however to plan out every proposal for the future.

It was cute watching Hermione and Charlie interact the way they did. Harry had a feeling there was something growing between them whether they knew it or not yet. He could see it any time they were talking together which always caused him to smile. All he wanted was for his friends, and the Weasley’s to be happy. Even Ginny who had not taken their break up well at all, and that was an understatement. 

Ron on the other hand had practically been over the moon when he had ended things with her. One drunken night they had both discussed relationships in depth. Theorizing his and Ginny’s relationship to be one of misplaced hormonal feelings, childhood fantasy, and frankly the redhead’s little sister’s infatuation. That wasn’t even counting the emotional distress and pressure he had been under all throughout school when normal teens were discovering themselves. As in discovering their desires in life, not discovering having a mad man invading your mind all the time before learning he was literally living inside you. 

It was also when they had put his and Hermione’s short little fling up for analyzing as a hopeless drug out crush, and school life fantasy. Now that that was out of their systems though neither of his friends knew what they had been thinking. Together romantically was an absurd to have considered. With all the bickering, differences, and habit of not speaking to each other for weeks over one single thing like they had as friends sometimes, anything more was just a down right toxic idea. 

“So dears, how was your weekend?” Ron’s mum asked over top of them, pouring tea into their cups. He and Ron had taken up the two empty chairs opposite each other, thankfully at the end of the table. Putting Bill on his right and Percy on Ron's left.

“Brilliant,” Ron said, shoveling some of the remaining mash into his mouth. “Turns out Harry’s got a little cousin.” 

Mrs. Weasley turned to him with bright eyes, pouring what appeared to be the last of the hot liquid into his own cup. “Do you dear?” she asked, and when he nodded the witch's face melted with happiness. “Awww. How old is she? A young one I take?” 

Harry furrowed his brows in thought, doing the math in his head. “I didn’t ask, but I’m sure she can’t be over three. I’d guess two or under actually.” It had been over a year and a half since they had left Privet Drive that night and for all he knew the little girl could have been born during his sixth year or just born last week. 

“I remember when my kids were that age,” Mrs.Weasley said with what sounded like nostalgia. “Still innocent little tykes before they all turned into the little trouble making heathens they are now.”

“I want to get her a present,” Harry admitted aloud while watching Ron bite back a grin as he took a bite of beans. The idea was one he had started contemplating as they drove Dudley's car a few miles away, and he had seen the car seat in the back. 

“Something appropriate for muggles of course,” he made sure to clarify since all the Weasleys knew were things in the wizarding world. “Since we don’t even know the probability of her being a witch. You know, having non-magical parents and all. Still something from our world though.” 

“Oh that is a wonderful idea love!” Mrs.Weasley said excitedly sitting down the kettle on the table to tap her finger to her chin with a hand on her hip. “Hmm muggle friendly let's see. That might be tricky. We will have to think outside the box here a little. I suppose most of our items are just bewitched aren’t they? What do you think of Arthur?” 

Mr.Weasley's head popped up from his hushed conversation with George at the other end of the table. Probably discussing the newest prank idea without her noticing. The older man had taken to being quite the encouraging prankster for George since Fred’s passing. Father and son growing closer than ever. That even included Ron since he worked with George at the shop as his right hand man. 

“Umm….I can’t say I get many children’s toys,” Mr.Weasley said, sitting down his fork, no doubt about to go on about muggle items and his findings or theories. “All of the ones I come across are tampered with anyways. I’m not exactly sure what are supposed to do besides rattles, blocks, and teething rings. Although I don’t understand how one that….

“I suppose I could also ask Hermione. She has loads of cousins that are muggles.” Harry interjected to make sure they didn’t go diving into muggle topics. He was the one that always got bombarded with questions especially when Hermione wasn’t around. 

No doubt the witch would think of something simple and appropriate for his baby cousin. It would probably get him a few different questions that might take a little dodging, but it was worth it if he got a suggestion and escaped Mr.Weasley's questioning. 

“Want to swing by afterwards?” he asked Ron, picking up another bite of his minced pie. 

The redhead looked at him like he was barmy. “You can’t be a serious mate. Can’t we just go home and relax? I need a bloody sh....Godric's bollocks!” his friend suddenly exclaimed loudly reaching down to rub at his leg where he had kicked him in the shin under the table.

“Ronald! Language!” his mum said warningly, and Harry laughed when his best friend glared at his mum’s back like a child being reprimanded as she hurried back off to the kitchen again to make more tea. 

While lots of things had changed since the war, there were some things Harry was glad never would. Then as Ron turned his glare on him with narrow eyes he smirked at the redhead feeling pleased with himself. There were some things he had never felt better about changing.


	2. Life is Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling a little dark today, and figured I'd give this one a little update. It's not a demanding one so it's 100% my own fun, even though I always hope it's not OOC. 
> 
> Next chapter will be fun for two reasons. 
> 
> We all have both light and dark inside us <3

Harry put another box back on the shelf. It had only been a few months into his apprenticing, but still he didn’t know how Ollivander could ever decide what wand to let someone try. He had said they would call to him, and that he was like the middle man between everyone's magic. While he had understood that bit he still wasn’t feeling anything like it. All he could feel was his own magic, and how it connected to each wand within the store. The older man insisted it would come to him in time. 

So he simply watched. Waited. He grabbed the wand Ollivander told him to, and then put it back when whatever little witch or wizard shattered something in the front room. It was a bit tedious, but between customers he had plenty to do. Mostly reading and research at this point still. 

He was nowhere near ready for creating his own wands. First he had to feel the connection of others' magic to the wands. Only then could he separate himself enough to make ones for others though. 

There was no denying the joy he felt seeing their faces light up when the right wand finally chose them. That was a moment he could feel theirs, and the wand's magic. It was what Ollivander called the first step. He could replay that feeling himself when he had walked into the shop, and he wanted everyone to experience that moment of joy. 

By the end of the day he felt exhausted from walking around the towers of wands so much. Reorganizing, memorizing. They sold four wands a day on average. The occasional older witch or wizard would come in for a mend of a complete replacement which Ollivander usually tended to in the back room. During which he straightened up the front room from any accidents that may have occurred. 

“Alright my boy,” Ollivander said, handing him another book for the month's reading. “This one is on the connection to wand length and wood. Don’t rush yourself on this one. Even half an inch can make a big difference on how the wand core interacts and the power of the cast.”

Harry nodded his head in understanding. Wandlore wasn’t all that tricky for him to understand. Wands spoke to him, and he figured it had something to do with mastering his own rare wand through such advanced magic, and being the master of the elder wand despite not using it. 

His only problem was the sheer expanse of wandlore. It was huge. Every wand wood, every wand core, every half an inch, every design…..the possibilities were endless especially when he was studying beyond the three cores Ollivander used. 

He looked forward to the day he was as educated as Ollivander on the subject. The day he could feel the entire world of magic as a catalyst to help others on their journey to be amazing witches and wizards. How he had ever thought he wanted to be an auror working with the Ministry was beyond him. 

Stemming from that original want of childhood he did hope he would be able to sense good or bad magic within someone, but he had a feeling that was a bit far fetched. No. He would be content and happy with providing the world. Any problems that arose he could always handle on the side. 

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Most of the evening he spent on the sofa reading. It was a soothing comfort he had also grown to enjoy, learning that he actually enjoyed it if it was something that interested him. Not the mindless never ending expanse of rubbish Hermione insisted was amazing. No one would have expected it from him, then again everyone seemed to expect something different than what he really wanted inside.

When the floo roared to life Harry glanced up with his eyes to watch Ron step through, brushing off his shirt and trousers. Old habit that died hard considering they only had the best floo powder. Guaranteed not to linger or stain. 

“Hey. How was work?” Harry asked, returning his eyes to the book seeing the tired look on the redhead’s face. 

“Bloody mess that’s what it was,” Ron complained. “Lee left because he forgot about an appointment with his mind healer, leaving me to restock AND run the counter while George worked the floor.” 

Harry sighed, closed his book, and got up to go fix some tea. “He still isn’t considering interviewing anyone else to work?” he asked. 

Ron scoffed, and kicked off his trainers. “Of course not. At this rate I’m not sure he ever will. I’m going to have to try talking to him again soon. Maybe get mum and dad to try also. We can’t run a highly demanding business on the same four people six days a week. I think we should consider ourselves lucky he closes on Sunday.” 

Bringing the kettle and cups out to the sitting table Harry chewed on his inner lip, pouring the tea as Ron continued to disrobe. Shucking off his trousers, and tossing his shirt off to the side before flopping down onto their sofa putting his feet up on the table. A disapproved act from basically everyone from him and some of their friends. 

“Fucking exhausted mate,” the redhead groaned throwing his head back against the furniture. 

Harry didn’t know there was much more he could say that hadn’t already been said dozens of times. Some days were worse than others, but those were things they couldn’t really do anything about. Fred still weighed heavily on George. Those first few months they hadn’t even been sure George wouldn’t off himself. Ron had seemed to make it his personal mission to help his brother. 

“I know,” he said simply sitting back down beside him. “Why don’t you go ahead and take a shower? I’ll order take out, and we can watch that new ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’? Main actor is bloody brilliant from what I can remember.” 

Ron let his head roll over to the side and looked at him with raised eyebrows of disbelief. “I just sat down, and you expect me to trudge all the way up the stairs? Merlin I’m tired of stairs,” he groaned. “Fucking Fred and George should have bought a one story shop like nearly everyone else on Diagon Alley.” 

Harry shrugged. “We can always move. I’ve thought about it a few times,” he admitted. 

It wasn’t like he actually hadn’t. Since the war, Grimmauld Place just felt so depressing, and lingering with memories that at times hurt his heart if he thought about it too much. Moving hadn’t been a priority yet though, but perhaps it was time to start looking. Not that he would ever sell the Black home, but living in it full time at least at the moment wasn’t an idea he really enjoyed. Somewhere bright and warm. New. Countryside. They would enjoy it, he thought. 

Ron exhaled heavily looking back up to the ceiling. “It’s your place mate,” he reminded him. 

“Exactly. It’s not like I’ll sell it, but we could get somewhere better together. New atmosphere to boost the mood. Warm. Inviting. New memories,” he explained. “Plus,” he added, picking up his cup of tea. “...we can make sure it has a downstairs loo also.”

The redhead looked at him with a tired smirk. “If you really want to it’s not like I will say no after all. Unless we go in half, but then my main requirement is getting out of the bloody city.” 

Harry perked up, sitting down his cup, thinking of money. Not something he ever had to worry about with his Potter and Black vaults. Not worrying about it also meant he got to put a lot of it towards good use. Unlike most rich purebloods he didn’t flaunt the fact about. One of the differences of what was predicted or expected of him. He liked a low key life. 

“Want to see what I got in Talkin Ave?” he asked brightly. It was a new side street off Diagon that had popped up with all kinds of new shops hoping to bring some fresh happiness to the previously destroyed main street. 

“What?” Ron asked, finally sitting up right for his drink. 

Harry held up his hand until the item flew down the stairs, and into his grasp with a wandless accio. Wandless magic was one of the things that had come quite easy with a little practice due to his talent and power. Even if he still preferred his wand it came in handy. 

“Do you think she will like it?” Harry asked Ron holding the little crib mobile in the air between them. 

It was a beautiful navy blue and enchanted to move to cries. From it dangled little brown brooms, and golden balls that were originally snitches but Hermione had removed the wings. There had originally been some wizarding hats also, but since they were muggles Hermione had also transfigured them into little black bear faces. The witch had loved and cooed over the idea, and helped him muggle-fy it without any asking. 

Ron smiled at the item. “Of course she will. Like you said she can’t be more than three. They love basically everything that isn’t a vegetable at that age.”

Harry chuckled. He wasn’t sure he was wrong about that. While he hadn’t grown up dealing with anyone younger than him Ron had had to deal with Ginny. 

“How are you going to give it to her without weirding her mum out though?” Ron asked thoughtfully. “Are you going to just leave it in a box, and say from a stranger? Not sure I’d accept something like that for my kid. Random item appearing on the stoop.” 

“She said I should just go as myself,” Harry frowned. “It sounds risky though.”

“Yea that one I think she is a bit barmy for,” the redhead agreed with him. “I mean some long lost cousin popping in out of the air? I doubt Dudley ever told her about you. Then with him being dead she might have questions about if you’ve heard from him and shite.” 

Harry sat the item down on the table not sure yet what he was going to do yet. “I just want her to know she is loved,” he told him. “Even if I didn’t like them. Even if they were toxic. She is just a baby. She has done nothing wrong, and deserves all the good things possible….”

Ron put his arm out around him, and encouraged him closer. “Then you can always check in on her every so often,” his mate reassured him. “I don’t know….you can leave a wad of muggle money somewhere she will find it when she is older, and if her mum finds some bloke that's as much of a low life as Dudley, well,” the redhead shrugged against him. “...then we can take care of them too. We will make sure no little one is treated like you ever again.”

“I know,” Harry confessed, feeling the worry again. It was something he still was working to get over after so many of the younger years at Hogwarts had died during the battle trying to fight for the good. “..but still…..” 

The redhead shook his head protesting his argument, and turned his head to kiss him deeply before he could say or worry more. Harry breathed it in. Even covered in the day's sweat somehow he still managed to smell like a warm fire and woods. Fresh cotton. He smelt like home. 

When their lips parted, Ron looked him directly in the eyes. Even tired his blue eyes held stability. Not only of their friendship that had only grown stronger after everything. Their childhood friendship held nothing compared to the way they had grown together since the year on the road. His departure on the hunt tested their relationship in the worst way possible. Reassuring them if they could get through that together they could get through everything. 

“Don’t worry about it. Yea?” the redhead said holding the side of his cheek. 

Harry took another deep breath and nodded. In response Ron kissed him again for further comfort. It had been undeniably weird the second time. The first time they had both been sloshed beyond belief after their little childhood crushes and fantasy ideas, confessions and wishes. He was pretty sure he had made the first move that night, but it was honestly a blur past confessing interest in blokes, the muggle he had shagged, and warm lips on his. 

What prompted the second time was out of both awkward tension. The obvious need for curiosity to be satisfied at the risk of their friendship. While he had known he wouldn’t lose Ron as his best mate it would have only taken a longer time for them to get comfortable again if they had let it linger on it’s own. Thankfully the redhead had been the first to break showing more bold confidence that he had grown into, and he admitted to being surprised by both the action, and result of the action. 

Harry slowly climbed into Ron’s lap as they started to actually snog instead of the lazy soft kisses they gave each other more casually throughout the days. While the redhead had been the bold one physically, he had been the first one to speak out on the affection. Outspoken as ever ready for whatever the bloke would have had to say in return. He had to get out how it made him feel. How intense and personal it was for him on numerous levels. Especially once Ron had allowed himself to admit a similar feeling. Then from there it had never stopped. It had only continued to grow, and grow, and grow into….

“Hey hey hey…..” Ron suddenly hissed, turning his face away, and trying to shove him off his lap. Harry refused to move despite the redhead’s effort until finally he gave up, letting his hands rest on his hips. Placing a kiss under the back side of the bloke’s jaw, he chuckled, grinding his weight down onto the redhead’s hardness that he could feel between his legs. 

“Fine,” his friend conceded. “If you plan on shagging you’re going to be doing the work tonight. My arse isn’t moving.”

Harry laughed at the statement. “Been a bit since I bottomed anyways,” he said carelessly getting off him to rid himself of his clothing. 

“Hardly call it bottoming when you're sitting on top of me,” Ron joked around leaning up, and grabbing his naked arse to pull onto his lap before he had finished stepping out of his pants. 

“Your cock in my arse makes it bottoming,” Harry pointed out as he settled back down into place, and reached down between them freeing the redhead’s thick erection from the thin fabric of his pants. 

“Cheeky,” Ron mumbled, going lax against the back of the sofa again, bringing his face along with him as his hands held onto his neck. 

Harry’s cock ached painfully as he started to lazily stroke them both tightly in his hand. He couldn’t imagine his life without Ron in it. There wasn’t a single person he would miss more. Even before they had started snogging and shagging. They might fool around, but they cared for each other and loved each other in a way no one else could. That’s all that mattered to him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've created a group on facebook called Ron's Chessboard. 100% Ron centric and no bashing at all is allowed towards him! Feel free to join to share Ron fics, aesthetics and more!


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